


Not Funny

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, kink: tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer doesn't like to be tickled. Except for how he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Funny

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tickling square on my kink_bingo card. Thanks go to kinetikatrue for the beta and sansets for giving it a final read-over. <3

Spencer should have never told Brendon. It had been a stupid thing to do. How had he expected Brendon to react? Like a mature adult? The same Brendon who still thought fart jokes were funny? He must have been high at the time.

His past mistakes aside, right now Spencer is going to kill Brendon. As soon as they're somewhere private, he will eviscerate him and bury him where no one will ever find him. If Spencer doesn't die of embarrassment first. Brendon fucking promised he would leave Spencer in peace.

Spencer had made it clear that he wanted Brendon to stop tickling him. He'd put up with it for years before he finally cracked. It had been fine before the split because back then Brendon had been able to pick any one of the three of them for his tickle attacks. But now that their band has only two members, Brendon concentrates all his efforts on Spencer. And that's just really fucking unfortunate.

Spencer thinks it must be the stupidest and most ridiculous kink ever. It's got to be. Seriously, who gets turned on from tickling? Spencer, that's who. And then Spencer had the choice: either suck it up--endure Brendon's attacks and spend too much time being uncomfortably hard-- or man up and explain to Brendon why he should stop.

Brendon, of course, had only taken it as a challenge to find ways to inconspicuously tickle Spencer. In public.

Yep, Spencer's going to kill him _dead_.

Spencer doesn't feel bad at all about ditching Brendon as soon as he gets the chance. It's just a stupid release party for FBR's newest band. They're just here to demonstrate their support. Spencer blames being exhausted from recording when he tells Pete he's leaving. Pete pats him on the shoulder.

"Go get some rest," he tells him.

Spencer breathes a sigh of relief and goes straight to bed when he's finally home. A while later he startles awake. Bogart's barking downstairs, a quick one, two that means _hello_. And that's Brendon stomping around the living room and up the stairs. Spencer closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep.

Brendon doesn't seem inclined to do him the favour of believing the lie. He doesn't even knock when he comes into Spencer's room. He walks straight up to Spencer's bed and drops down onto it, straight on top of Spencer. "Thanks, asshole," Brendon grumbles. "I had to take a cab to get home. Why the fuck did you leave?"

"Brendon," Spencer sighs. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Tough luck," Brendon says. "I want to. Really, Spencer, what?" He sounds more lost than angry now, like he really doesn't get why Spencer would want to do something like that.

Spencer sits up, pushing Brendon back roughly. Brendon doesn't let himself be pushed around, though. He follows Spencer up and leans back against the headboard next to him. Spencer feels incredibly tired. "We've had this conversation before," he says, "and you just keep on completely ignoring what I told you and-"

"Is this about the tickling?" Brendon sounds a little meek. "I didn't, you know, I didn't mean to upset you."

The sad thing is, Spencer believes him. Brendon's not intentionally cruel, but when he thinks something is hilarious or funny, he has trouble resisting temptation. "But you keep fucking doing it," Spencer says.

"Yeah, but-" Brendon cuts himself off abruptly.

"But what?" Spencer feels his anger flare up again. "I told you how it ... affects me, and you still-"

"That's why."

Spencer blinks. Then he leans over and turns on the lamp on his bedside table. If they're going to have this conversation, he wants to be able to see Brendon's face. After lying in the dark for so long, Spencer's momentarily blinded by the light, but when his eyes adjusts, he sees that Brendon's blushing a little, studiously examining his fingers. He's not even looking anywhere near Spencer, but his body his angle towards him. It's confusing.

"Brendon, what?" Spencer wants to hold on to his anger, but he feels a little bit lost, and his question is just a whisper.

Brendon shrugs, but he leans against Spencer, almost melting against him. It's weirdly intimate, the way Brendon lets Spencer hold him up. It's like, like he's asking for permission, somehow, and it fucks with Spencer's head. Brendon is a comfort creature and he enjoys physical contact, but this seems to go deeper. Spencer's starting to feel hot and above all he's really fucking confused. And Brendon just makes it worse when he leans over and presses his fingers against that spot under Spencer's ribs. Spencer sucks in a breath. Brendon's fingers are hot through Spencer's thin t-shirt, and he's more rubbing than tickling.

Spencer's skin is tingling, and the feeling goes straight to his cock. Spencer opens his mouth, but he has no idea what to say. He swallows dryly.

Brendon's close, so close that Spencer can count his eyelashes, and his eyes are downcast. He's watching his own fingers and something about the whole situation makes Spencer's heart beat rapidly.

"I like it," Brendon whispers.

Spencer blinks, wants to say something eloquent like _what?_ , but then Brendon's leaning up and kisses him. Spencer doesn't move, but he opens his mouth because Brendon's kissing him with careful determination. It's easy to follow his lead. When they break the kiss, Spencer gasps for air. He feels tense and overwhelmed. "Brendon, I-"

Brendon puts his hand over Spencer's mouth, silencing him. "I like that it turns you on," he says. "What it does to you." His eyes are very, very dark. Spencer's pretty sure they don't always look this dark.

"Oh," Spencer says.

"Yeah," Brendon says, as he moves to straddle Spencer. He's still dressed and his jeans are rough against Spencer's thighs. Spencer feels naked, even though he's wearing a shirt and boxers and the way Brendon looks at him makes him feel shy and young and out of his depth. When Brendon leans down to kiss him again, he puts his hands under Spencer's shirt, then tugs it off slowly. He strokes his hands gently against Spencer's skin. The feather-light touch makes Spencer shudder.

"Is this okay?" Brendon asks. He's sitting on Spencer's legs, holding almost completely still, though Spencer thinks his hands are shaking. Spencer considers saying no for a moment, but he remembers how Brendon makes him feel when he tickles Spencer and ... he wants to see where this ends. For once, he wants to go through with it. So he nods.

"This," Spencer says, "this, right now; that's okay." He pulls Brendon forward so he can whisper into Brendon's ear. At the same time he gets the upper hand for a moment. Brendon has to lean against Spencer or he'll fall over. It settles the nervous thrumming in Spencer's stomach. "Just the two of us," Spencer says. "I don't, I'm not-"

"I get it," Brendon says in a low voice. "No more public tickling, I get it."

Spencer snorts. "Do you?" he asks because he knows Brendon. Brendon will agree to about everything if it will get him what he wants.

Brendon goes still. Then he sits back and looks Spencer into the eye. He has his determined face on, which Spencer usually finds hilarious, but is making his stomach flutter right now. "I do," Brendon says very seriously. "I'm really sorry."

"I feel vulnerable," Spencer whispers. "You turn me on and I can't react to that, and then I hate how I feel and how you make me feel, and that sucks."

Brendon reaches for Spencer's hand, entwines their fingers and holds on. "I'm sorry," he repeats. He's still looking directly at Spencer. "I knew that and--I knew it wasn't fair, but I didn't know what else to do. I still shouldn't have." He looks pretty remorseful.

"Okay," Spencer says. "It's okay." He squeezes Brendon's hand and then pulls him in for a long searing kiss. Brendon meets him kiss for kiss and by the time they come up for air again, Spencer's breathless. "Just remember not to do it in public anymore," he manages.

Brendon grins. "We're not in public right now," he points out, "does this mean I can let loose?" He waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

This dispels the last of the sombre mood created by their serious conversation. Brendon playing it up is familiar and, above all, it makes Spencer laugh. "Knock yourself out," he manages. "Do your worst."

Brendon's fingers immediately turn more ruthless. He goes for every single one of Spencer's ticklish spots. It feels weird, Brendon's fingers ghosting over his skin, but it also feels very, very good. Brendon slides closer to Spencer, sits right on his lap. Spencer's hard and his cock is pressing against Brendon's ass.

When Brendon goes for the sensitive skin on Spencer's upper arm, Spencer jerks and turns his head away. His entire skin feels on fire. Brendon presses a kiss against Spencer's temple. "Hey," he says. His voice is soft. "You want to stop?"

Spencer shakes his head. He can't verbalise that he wants more, right now. He lets Brendon turn his head, though, and he kisses Brendon back just as roughly as Brendon kisses him. Brendon rolls his hips, tiny movements, but his jeans drag against Spencer's skin. It is too much and too little at the same time. "Fuck," Spencer gasps. Brendon's just humming against his skin. He runs his nails over Spencer's skin, scratching a little, but Spencer still moves closer. Brendon tickles Spencer lightly, the same spot as before, and he presses down against Spencer's cock, and Spencer comes with a shout. He hadn't even realised he'd been that close. "Fuck," he repeats and hides his face against Brendon's neck.

"Wow," Brendon says and he sounds almost giddy. "Like, seriously, did you just? You can come from that?"

Spencer groans. If he weren't still all afterglowy, he'd totally throw Brendon out of his bed. "Obviously," he grumbles. Brendon tips his head up. He looks utterly fascinated and ... happy. It doesn't make sense, Spencer thinks. He just completely embarrassed himself and Brendon's fucking beaming.

Brendon kisses him, a shallow, simple kiss, which still leaves Spencer panting. "That was fucking awesome," Brendon whispers in Spencer's ear. "I want to do this again."

"Um," Spencer replies. "What?"

Brendon giggles. "That was hot," he says. "I'm going to jerk off to that right now and tomorrow we're gonna talk about it."

Spencer blinks at him. Then he asks the first question that pops into his mind. "Why can't I jerk you off?"

Brendon kisses him again, sweet and gentle. "Because you're falling asleep on me."

"'M not," Spencer says. His eyes feel tired, but he still has enough energy left to give Brendon a hand job. Brendon gets up, anyhow, and Spencer is too slow in grabbing him. Brendon kisses him on the tip of his nose, "I'll be right back."

Spencer doesn't remember falling asleep. Brendon pokes him awake. "Lift your hips," he says, and Spencer complies. But then he's suddenly naked.

"Huh." Spencer blinks. Brendon sighs and runs a wet washcloth over him. It feels nice, Spencer thinks, and then he's almost asleep again.

Brendon drops the washcloth unceremoniously in Spencer's hamper and climbs into Spencer's bed, spooning up beside him. "Hey," Spencer mumbles.

"Go to sleep," Brendon says. He's warm and holding Spencer tightly and Spencer is really incredibly tired. He wraps his hand around Brendon's arm. He falls asleep that way.  



End file.
